Pam’s Pictorama Post: I have opined on my devotion to Instagram. While I understand the downsides for many folks, having programmed my feed to be a fairly delightful walk through antique toys, cats (toy cats of course), antique jewelry, and vintage clothing (a shout out to @katestrasdin who I always enjoy – and I never stop being fascinated to what happened to silhouettes in the 1850’s!) generally makes me happy. I have written about it, intertwined with posts about my purchases. I am a rare 100% fan.
The secret may be that, although I will occasionally pause to look at Isabella Rossellini’s pigs, I generally do not follow celebrities and I do my best to avoid all political discourse. Of course I look at cats and watch cat videos. The biggest problem (or advantage, depending on how you look at it) is that I buy things. I buy jewelry (you can see a post about that here) and disparate bits and bobs. The Midwest and the South of the US tend to feed this habit – and of course England, the spiritual home of the early Felix and, like today’s acquisition, Louis Wain. (Several Wain posts exist! A few are here, here and here.)
It probably won’t surprise many of my readers to know that I am crazy enough that while scrolling through Instagram I will pause and happily look as closely as I can at tables packed with wares at far off flea markets. This is usually on my phone and therefore takes a certain kind of skill, gently expanding the image to see bits better.
This is a photo Steven Phillips sent me after I asked about the doily while still on the table.
This has actually resulted in purchases but the other day was an exception. This gentleman (@woodenhilltoys) in Britain had two items I decided I wanted if they made it through the day at the flea market. Luckily they were not sold and this doily is the first of the two.
It is very interesting as it appears to have been made contemporaneously with Louis Wain (1920’s), in his style, but not him. Although I found one other example at auction they are not common in my experience. In a sense this surprises me – Wain stuff has long been collectible and you’d think a fair number were sold and would survive but evidently not.
As noted in the title of this post, Hamlet Castle is one sign on the wall and Rehearsal of company 12 noon the other. (The auction site lists the doily by this moniker as well.) A Wain inspired cat (Hamlet?) with a club is getting read to pop this other kit (Polonius??) with a properly maniacal look on his mug. Go cat, go!
I’m not exactly sure how or where I will choose to display this tidbit. I tend to think it will come with us to New Jersey (later this morning as you read this!) where I will find a frame for it and hang it somewhere. It is a real treat. Stay tuned for the other acquisition and a story about a rather splendid item the seller shared with me but sadly he does not wish to part with. It’s a real Pictorama piece!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Readers from last week know that Kim and I went to a postcard show, held in the West Village, where I purchased my way through a whole lotta postcards. I came away with holdings that I will be working my way through for the foreseeable future. I am hoping you enjoy the launch of what I can promise will be a varied trip.
I am kicking off this visual feast with one of my favorites from the pile. Although there is a nominal kitten here, it is the attitude of this beautiful young woman I love. It is a suggestive card but her energy and winning charm are amazing. Our woman is looking right at us and pointing at You out there. Her be-flowered hat is placed properly on her head and she sports a pretty necklace if you look carefully, a tiny opal or pearl at its center. (I will vote for opal as we know I am partial to them.)
I own a few other somewhat salacious cat cards, the French produced a line of them around this time. One of those prior posts, photo below, can be found here.
French card. Pams-Pictorama.com collection. Another unhappy camera ready kitty!
She is wearing what I guess would have been called a petticoat although that is a bit generic and people who know about these things would probably know a more precise way to describe this chemise. Although it looks like tights she wears I assume that these were sort of the regulation stockings of the day, although with her little low boot shoes.
She supports the kitten with the other hand, his hold on the back of the chair is otherwise tenuous. It is a tiny tabby kitten – and actually close study shows he has no grip on the chair back at all – and that he is not especially pleased with his part in this proceeding. Kitten career as prop. I believe about his world at the time that he could have done worse than working for his living in front of the camera. Maybe he grew up to have a sideline in mousing at the studio. (Blackie is on my lap and I just inquired about whether he’d be up to a mouse if presented with one. He seems on the fence.)
This card was never sent, like so many of these postcards. There is an odd torn edge along the left side. Somehow it feels like it was torn way back in the day at the point of origin, or near to it. It was evidently once sold for 87 cents – I paid a lot more than that I assure you. Someone has also written 1900 but that might just be their guess too.
I can’t actually say I am partial to those cards that were never used although less beat up. The tiny missives on the back (sometimes a bit of cheeky text added to the front) of those that were sent always thrill me. They are windows into a brief moment in a life and I sort of treasure that.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: We are (mostly) packed and at the ready to head to New Jersey this morning. It is still pitch black out as I write this, but here in New York we got our first snow flakes in a long time yesterday. I think the ground was too warm full there to be a frosting of it out there, but we’ll see what Monmouth County has, if any.
Although there is a certain feeling of routine to it, this is only the second year we are spending in New Jersey for the holidays. We are still finding our stride with it. While there are packages of gifts and essentials, I usually take the opportunity to move a few bulky items to the house there while we are packing up a car.
Christmas breakfast with Eileen Travell yesterday before leaving town. I gave her this pretty little blue and white bowl.
Rides With Cash is a car service I have used since I commuted frequently during my mom’s last illness. (I posted about it previously here.) Jeff, the proprietor, brings his unfailingly wonderful Aussie, Cash, with him and I get a dog cuddle in as well. Now that Cookie and Blackie share some of these rides they are less thrilled with Cash but the car is large enough for a generous separation of cats in carriers and dog!
Cash sitting in the front seat during our summer sojourn.
Although more frequent commutes from New Jersey in recent years has mentally shrunk the distance between the two locations, bringing the cats and going to stay is still definitely a maneuver which requires forethought and planning. Somehow the holidays got away from us this year and I feel a bit like we are going to land in a heap. Blackie’s Thanksgiving holiday illness set us back a bit schedule-wise and there will be a holiday card reveal tomorrow while we are still sending out the bulk of our mailed cards! (Apologies in advance to those of you who don’t like your surprise ruined.)
We had our annual Top Dog Gala at work last week. We honored the NYP’s K9 unit and the dogs we care for on the force.Centerpieces complete with usable leash were for sale at the end of the event.
Blackie is better, although he required yet another trip to the vet this week – puffy eye. We aren’t sure but maybe his sister socked him, or he got something in it which made him rub it a bit raw. He is somewhat demoralized by gooping three times a day and I’m sure this trip out of state will get on his last little cat nerve. (It is finally getting light and it has indeed snowed and there appears to be a half inch or so on the ground.)
For those of you who are new to the fold – five additional cats await our arrival in New Jersey. My mom left me her cats who continue to reside in the house there where they are cared for. Our visits mean a house full of seven cats. What was my mother thinking?
All staff holiday party. My colleagues had spent the day in the lobby playing Santa and Elf to visiting animals who could have their picture taken.
For all of this, going there for the holidays is very soothing for me . Like many folks, I feel the loss of family and friends most keenly at this time of year. Being in the area I grew up in and being around the people there mitigates it somewhat and blunts the blow of the sharp edges. I know it is asking a lot of Kim and the cats who would much rather stay in New York. However, going as a family and having everyone I love together in one place for a few weeks is special to me.
So, a brief entry today an unsuspecting Cookie and Blackie to be placed in their carriers shortly. More from the other side. Let the holidays commence!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Seems impossible to write about anything else while my mind is so full of the first few days at the new job so here I go. As some of you know, I have only ever had a handful of first days at jobs in my adult life. (Meaning beyond the days when someone handed me a uniform or an apron and said have at it in high school and college!) Since one of the few was returning to the Met after an absence of two years and doesn’t really count, I am inexperienced at this for someone my age and who has worked continuously for decades.
Frosty view on my way to work on day 1. It has been in the teens and/or snowing all week!
When you leave one place and go to another you shed much of your day-to-day expertise about who does what and how things are done. I remember at Jazz there was a bi-weekly meeting that was held to discuss Wynton’s calendar and upcoming events and for the first couple of months I just sat there marveling at how I had no idea in the least what they were talking about. You lose the place where you got coffee in the morning, not to mention where lunch could be found.
At my new gig it is the discussions around oncology and neurology for kits and pups and a surgical floor opening that flummox me somewhat. I have seen a new MRI for small animals (I gather we are more or less the only game in town for this) and I have chatted with an angry orange Maine Coon cat who was waiting his turn for radiation. While kitty was very mad, next to him was a pup whose tail wagged continuously despite his circumstances when he heard our voices. Dogs, for whatever reason, make up the larger lion’s share of our practice. I can already say a lot of dogs get attacked while being walked. Be careful out there folks!
The first weeks require wandering around looking for the necessities of life – where to grab lunch, a drugstore, a post office. Considering we are in Manhattan you would think these are on every corner, but the animal hospital is perched near the river and the on and off ramp for the FDR highway. Much in addition to us is under construction and it is an island of traffic and construction, the amenities of life are at least a block away.
The origin of the Animal Medical Center, downtown, back in 1914.
By its very nature, as an animal emergency medical center and the only Trauma 1 center for animals in the area, it is a place that must look constantly forward. Having said this, it is housed in a building from the early 1960’s that we are renovating while still going full tilt. I too was built in the early 1960’s and I think both of us are showing our age. Luckily for the animals (and all of us) the hospital is in the final phase of a massive renovation of said building. Unlike a museum, a hospital has to stay open and fully operational during its renovation and space will be tight for almost another year. Our cramped quarters and the valiant unfailing efforts of the docs inspires me to get in there and raise some money to help finish the job.
As a result my team and a smattering of other folks are camped out in a block away which makes it hard to immerse myself in the life of the place although frequent trips in and out are helping to permeate my consciousness. Meanwhile my team doesn’t really exist in a place where I can easily gather them, although I am doing my best to perch among them on and off and pepper them with questions. My first few days were a morass of equipment that wasn’t quite working with passwords that needed to be established and a persistent problem with sound on my computer which I believe we finally resolved late Friday. This is what first days of work in the 21st century are made up of I guess.
Unlike Jazz, which had moved back to working entirely in person, I am back to a combination of online meetings and fewer in-person ones. I feel I have lost the cadence of working that way and am struggling to regain the skill set even once my equipment is functional.
If I had a window my view might be close to something like this of the 59th Street bridge and Roosevelt Island tram.
My new digs are pleasant enough. We are on the East River and while I have no windows skylights add some natural light to my office. (I have been warned by the pathologist next to me that they leak however – her microscope is covered.) There is a pile of fluffy dog beds in one corner from our recent Gala and I admit on a chilly late afternoon it is tempting to pull one out and curl up like a Great Dane in one.
My boxes of files and personal office effects have yet to arrive so it is a bit sterile for now and I twitch for files that aren’t there as I start to think about materials that need to be produced. It will seem more like home once I am fully installed, hopefully in the coming week. Despite the internet I still keep a dictionary and a thesaurus on my shelf and a few other office touchstones from my past – although I let go of the actual rolodex years ago after moving that around a couple of times.
Large fluffy dog beds are tempting. There’s a bag of cat toys too in case I get bored.
Some readers know that there’s always a Chinese lucky waving cat in my office to help attract money. I will definitely feel better once he is back on the job. (I wrote about my affinity for these in a post here.) I could use his reassuring tick, tick. I may need to bring one from home if there’s going to be a delay! No one has invested themselves in the space though, despite having been there for years and the likelihood of at least a year ahead. I hope for my team my being firmly grounded there brings them some measure of comfort. I like to take root in a space wherever I am. I like my stuff.
One in a series of lucky waving cat statues.
Because our space is open at the ceiling and we are crammed in together I cannot play music in my office, but Radio Dismuke is still on my earphones daily. (I wrote recently about finding this now beloved radio station online and posted about it here.) I am just getting to know the few existing members of my team and they are friendly if a bit wary. I have interviews with potential staff to fill existing positions already set up for this week.
So that’s the state of me as my first few days at the new job draw to a close. Much more about this adventure to come. Thank you for those readers who tuned in!
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s is an odd photo postcard I picked up recently. In 1902 Kodak introduced photo postcard packages were able to print their negatives right on them and I imagine that this card, sent in 1905 seems to be of this genre.
As I envision the making and using of these cards (something I actually have spent some time pondering) I wonder if they made a little pile of them at a time or only printed the one off. Will I someday be searching through eBay or a pile of photos and find the exact card but with a different message? (Imagine my surprise!) It seems like it could happen, but it never has to date.
This card, as is declared decoratively at the top, was sent on December 21st, 1905 from Berlin, New York. After some serious study, it appears to have been sent to Mr. J. E. Whiteker in Barnstead, New Hampshire. (There’s one word I can’t quite figure out – center? outer? Barnstead.) There is also a notation in pencil in the upper right corner, 7/27/75 15￠.
Shown as a plump puss with a fairly satisfied look on his face which belies the message to some degree. He is perched on some sort of print fabric and behind him there is a check tablecloth piled high with books.
The message on the card appears to read as follows, Dear Brother (?) This is the cat that didn’t kill the rat – we didn’t get a good picture. (Serve?) him a good Xmas dinner and make him grovel for it. “A personal Christmas to you from us. Herbert. Clearly a message of great holiday cheer.
Inability to execute a rodent notwithstanding, kitty looks pretty well fed and happy. A smile lurks in his genial expression. At a glance, he doesn’t really have the promising appearance of a rat killer, although with cats looks can deceive I suppose.
Miltie, napping nicely.
This sort of stripe-y tom is reminiscent of several of the New Jersey crew I inherited. Milty, a stray from Newark and Peaches, rescued from a basement in Long Branch, both fall into this distinctly indistinct category of cat. Most notably, our outdoor man, christened Hobo by me a few years back, fits this bill as well. (Peaches hates Hobo and looks the most like him!) The ongoing Hobo story is known to Pictorama habitués, but his tale is below.
I can’t remember precisely when Hobo showed up except that I believe it was after mom adopted Stormy, a gray and white kitten who was also being fed at the backdoor. Like my mom’s other rescues, she showed up persistently and was looking increasingly poorly when mom trapped her with the intention of spaying and releasing her. She turned out to be a very shy, but good natured kitty and she never returned to the outdoors. (She still chases her tail, like our Cookie!) Therefore, Hobo probably came into the fold around April of ’22.
Stormy.
Hobo, a bit of a reprobate, has resisted trapping. He’s a wily fellow who, when he is around, will ask for meals several times a day, leading me to think he has worms and wondering if I might slip something for them into his food. Last year this time mom was fairly focused on trying to get him trapped and in before the winter, but try as Winsome and I might we could not entice him in, making me wonder if he had been trapped in a cage before.
Peaches and Hobo. Next to Peaches is a favorite toy rat which is often a gift on my bed when I am there.
Unlike the others mom eventually trapped and adopted (I inherited five cats, plus Hobo from her when she died in April – yes, plus two here in NY), Hobo has the real earmarks of a life lived outside. I’m sure he looks older than his years and of course living the outdoor life, while sort of swinging and intriguing, is likely to drastically reduce his life span. (A Peaches to Hobo comparison below!)
Over the summer I had a video texted to me by a horrified Winsome who came across Hobo feasting on a rat! Evidently he had also brought her a dead mouse – gracious acknowledgment of the many meals she has given him. Clearly however he was supplementing his protein with a bit of a la carte dining. I had the opposite reaction and said he deserved a promotion and give that cat some treats! (We are not far from the water and we are always somewhat in danger of being overrun by rats.)
Sadly, Hobo seems to be on the lamb these days and hasn’t shown up in more than a week. Winsome reports daily and has tried leaving food out for him in case he is visiting at odd hours. It isn’t the longest he’s been gone and I believe (hope) there are other folks in the neighborhood who feed and look out for him. (We’ve seen him picking his way, very dignified, through other yards and down local streets.) We are decamping for several weeks in New Jersey and I am hoping he reappears then if not before.
Edit: I received an update tonight that Hobo showed for a late dinner! We’re very glad he is back in the fold.
Pam’s Pictorama Photo Post: Today’s photo post is a page from an album which I purchased on Instagram primarily for the two cats, but I confess to just liking the overall effect. It is from a small, horizon album and the photos are snipped into shapes to fit with some skill. Everyone is identified in nice neat white writing.
Left to right we have John Langley who we assume is the baby perched on this woman’s lap, the full skirt of her dress covered by his voluminous baby blanket. A clothesline with a baby bonnet hanging is in the background and lush shrubs in front of a fence or edifice as well as visible fencing in the distance. Master Langley is attired in bulky diaper only.
Detail. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
Much more comely is Jeanette Howard. She is all pretty white dress, beribboned curls and something unidentified in her hands. (I recently read a chapter in a book about the care and cleaning of clothing in this period and the laboriousness described comes back to me as I look at the attire. Oh the children’s clothes!) Jeanette is in profile and looking off camera, but the flowers make a nice foil for her.
Detail. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.
At long last, we have our two kits. Fifi appears to be some variation on a black and white tuxedo, face in shadow beyond that white nose and muzzle. This is a fluffy kitty. Only Fifi’s name is in quotations, making me wonder if it was a nickname?
My favorite is Lord Bobs. This is a black and whiter with some nice cat-attitude. He is a very fluffy kitty, big whiskers and all the genteel self-possession we would expect from someone sporting his moniker. I especially like the “s” at the end of his name. He is a handsome fellow.
The back of the sheet – as I think of it anyway – is less interesting. The Nashua Library, is trimmed down to its outline. Nashua, in case like me you are not in the know, is in New Hampshire and it is a very difference edifice today as shown below.
Verso. Pams-Pictorama.com Collection.Nashua Public Library today.
Lastly we have the photo marked Charlie Chase. I am probably one of a smallish subset of people who even remember who Charlie Chase was – although the likelihood of Pictorama readers knowing is perhaps marginally higher than the population at large. For those who are not familiar, he was a very well known silent comedian and this is probably not him. (As seen below in a Wikipedia post, he is fairly distinctive in appearance.) I think that he is maybe another Charlie Chase is also a possibility – alas, we are unlikely to ever know.
Comedian Charley Chase in an undated photo.
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A postscript to regular Pictorama readers in case you are wondering – we survived moving the contents of the storage facility yesterday and I write (if somewhat exhausted!) from my perch in NJ today. Next week, Kim and cats will follow so more to come!
Pam’s Pictorama Post: This very homemade photo postcard caught my eye for some reason. It is dated January 15, 1920, handwritten on both front and back. It was never sent and I don’t know where it hails from, but it is a snowy January locale. An out of season litter of kittens is scarfing down a meal with what appears to be their mom, on the side of this clapboard house.
I can make out a winter washtub, buckets, a stool and what might be a water pump although some of it is a bit indistinct. Kitties are being fed on a wooden walkway, presumably raised above the snow to minimize the inevitable mud being traipsed in the house. This cat quartet is enjoying meals from somewhat outsized bowls – the one kitten downright dwarfed by his and you wonder if he will need to actually climb in to get the last of his dinner. I am sure, however, that he or she will manage.
I grew up in a home that became increasing well endowed with cats over time. With a beginning investment of one, then two, somehow we slipped into a bevy of kitties over time. Once we weren’t quick enough and a litter of kittens set off a chain effect, and for a number of years the household expanded to accommodate a more or less two to one cat to human ratio. Seems, at least for us Butlers, cats are a slippery slope.
The Butler cat buffet in action.
This mini herd of felines would all come running when they heard my mother call, Chow time! To my memory there was no getting picky over food types and flavors back in that time. There were rather generic cans of cat food and bags or boxes of dry food and cats ate it – unless of course they were stealing food off the table (one cat, Zipper, managed to steal a steak off the table – dropped it right into the happy jaws of our waiting German Shepard, she who definitely won the lottery that day), or committing some other food related sin. Being picky was not among those sins however.
Predating the chow time call was the simple sound of an electric can opener which made the cats of the day come running. For the younger reader, this device was very popular before the advent of the pop top can. It came after the hand can opener (several which still reside in my kitchen), but made opening the numerous canned goods of the day quicker I guess. They still exist, but seem to have waned in popularity. Of course this meant that there were many false food calls for cats, but they remained at the ready nevertheless.
Milty and Stormy (gray tabby) with a special bowl I put out in the living room for her since no one wants to let her eat in the kitchen.
Our cats, Blackie and Cookie, are on a fairly strict eating schedule of 6am and 6pm daily, although they have dry food to snack on between times. Kim has the primary responsibility for cat feeding (and Blackie’s insulin shots now which follow immediately) and the kits are pretty good about it although they, like all cats, would love to adopt a more open handed feeding schedule. We continue to demur.
The only view we much every get of Hobo, the persistent backdoor stray in NJ.
Mom’s cats, on the other hand, enjoy a less regulated, ongoing Butler buffet of wet and dry food. Hobo, our wily stray who has been showing up for more regular meals now that I am more frequently in residence, gobbles two to three cans at a go. I joke that he must have a hollow leg, but I guess he is a fellow who is unsure where his next meal will come from and maximizes his opportunities. For the cats in residence, the caregivers and I open cat food cans with impunity upon my mother’s request and the pantry groans and abounds with Chewy boxes.
Home is a topic which is much on my mind these days. As Pictorama readers know I now spend part of each month in New Jersey, near where I grew up, with my mom helping out there now that she is in failing health.
I have always had a cat-like desire for routine and part of that is being nestled in the same place as much as possible, with my things around me for comfort. Even as a small child my mother would comment on my determination to make a space mine and settle into it.
Sunrise from the apartment in Manhattan.
As I have gotten older that also means Kim and the cats most of all – home is where the heart is after all. While I have enjoyed some of the work travel I have done, being uprooted from them and home has always been done a bit grudgingly.
Therefore, a new paradigm that pulls me out of my usual and sends me off to Jersey periodically has been a bit painful really. Although now over the past year I have pressed that into a sort of pattern as well it is somewhat less jarring. It is always hard for me to gather myself to leave on a Sunday night when I just want to stay curled up on my couch. I have my great indulgence which is the ride I take in each direction, comfort Aussie Shepard on my lap for pets, which allows me the luxury of travel on my own schedule.
Cookie when she helped me with the Christmas card recently.
I keep a suitcase lightly packed, but mostly I have clothing, toiletries and running apparel there. Like me, my laptop has to be disconnected on one end and reinstalled on the other. On the other side of the trip is mom’s little Cape Cod house, a bedroom for me which the cats there only cede to me with great reluctance. I gave everyone a peek at Peaches in last week’s post which can be found here.
To be frank, mom’s cats are not enamored of me as a group. Beau, an enormous pitch black cat, allows me to pet him, but mom’s other rescues are skittish and generally not for petting which is disappointing. (I recently wrote about Stormy, cat of mystery, here.) I miss Cookie and Blackie’s affection when I am gone.
Milty and Peaches enjoying the open door last summer.
My morning routine there is to have coffee with mom very early, 5:30 or 6:00, before heading out for a run if weather permits. I schedule myself this way because early morning is the best time with her as she starts the day. I make a large pot of coffee in a percolator identical to the one in New York and which all of mom’s caretakers is now enamored. Mom can no longer drink it, but appreciates the smell as it perks. I make a good pot of coffee.
Wooded running path in Monmouth County.
I generally keep my run to around 4-5 miles in New Jersey. I run more slowly there – lots to look at and also I jog slowly over many types of terrain. Although the majority of my run is through a sort of sidewalk suburban heaven, through neighborhoods and sports fields, I also run through a heavily wooded area, over wood chip paths, over tree roots and past the occasional deer. People nod and say hello in New Jersey, unlike in Manhattan where you never much do that, but dogs here are more likely to lunge for me than jaded city pups. I see endless bunnies and chipmunks abound, cats watch me from porches and dogs bark at me from behind fences and windows. There’s even a rooster on my route although I have not heard him in awhile.
While stretching outside upon my return I take an inventory of the outside of the house and anything that seems amiss or needs attention. It is remarkable to me that one day you can look at the front steps and realize that the railing needs paint and is starting to fall apart at the bottom, that gutters need attention or the driveway has a sag. Recently I realized that there was a huge air leak under the front door despite a storm door in place.
Mom’s house in the snow.
Mom’s is a track house built in the 1950’s – identical ones probably dotted the neighborhood at the time although her prime location near three schools, endless sports fields and small shopping area, has converted most of the lots to considerably larger homes. Her house, originally quite small, had an addition of a main bedroom, bath and an area bumped out to enlarge the kitchen. It now has four bedrooms, two in the dormer upstairs, and three and a half bathrooms. As it nears its seventh decade I can see that maintaining it is difficult, but more attainable than the houses of more than a hundred years that appeal to me aesthetically.
As an apartment dweller for my entire adult life, the actual reality of home ownership has been a rude awakening as I take over some of the responsibilities for mom’s house. Mike the yard guy, the rat exterminator, David who paints, Fitzroy who does odd jobs, Larry who helps with the computer – mom holds the reins still on all of it but slowly I am starting to engage.
Upstairs room where I work.
I am generally there on workdays so my return home is usually followed by a quick breakfast and then to my “office” upstairs in one of those bedrooms. I try to have a proper lunch time when I am with mom (my friend Suzanne often picks me up and we hit a great restaurant called Tavalo’s for the best sandwiches I know) and I attempt to end my day no later than 6:00 at least for meetings. During times of duress, the same friend will offer up a glass of Prosecco with cheese and crackers at the end of the day, bringing it upstairs if I don’t surface.
It amazes me that our apartment in Manhattan is so much quieter than mom’s house. While there is a roster of caregivers coming and going throughout the day and night, it is more the folks tending to the house’s needs and a litany of visiting docs which makes the small house feel like Grand Central station at rush hour. (I have written previously about mom and her caregivers in a post that can be found here.)
And then, before I know it, time to pack back up and head home to Deitch Studio. Much like at the beginning of my trip, there is a tug to stay here too, the gravitational pull of staying where I am, but now at home in both places.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Just a quick note and a ho, ho, ho to you all. It was a quiet start to the day here in New Jersey. I decided to give myself a break from running today after my efforts yesterday when it was only 8 degrees out.
Nonetheless I was up early and putting the coffee on. My coffee has become a great favorite among mom’s caregivers – I perk a mean pot and am well set up for it down here with a pot identical to mine at home. I wish you could smell it.
Laurel and Hardy this morning.
Kim is on his way – traveling with my dog friends Cash and Penny. He is coming for the down and I will head back to New York with him tonight. As a result I am starting to gather all my bits which are spread over mom’s house after four days here.
Keeping an eye out for Hobo. So very cold we’d like to make sure our stray cat friend has a good meal. He stopped by the day before yesterday for a meal and inhaled three cans.
Hobo noshing earlier this week.
Yesterday found a friend’s wife just returning from the hospital so we packed up a whole lot of Christmas dinner (mom had ordered enough for an army – really!) for them to have food for a few days. He is so kind to my mom that it was a great pleasure to do something for them.
Mom has CNN blaring as always, although I have Laurel and Hardy on the television in the bedroom for some holiday relief. Holiday reports are coming in from friends all over which is nice to hear. Eileen, cold in Vermont, Eden and Jeanie warmer in California.
The eating has commenced (biscuits! First round) and a second pot of coffee perking in advance of Kim’s arrival. mom’s cats are sleeping off their first meal of the day although not sure Stormy has braved the fray.
Christmas cat breakfast.
So Merry Christmas to you and yours from all of us here at Pictorama and Deitch Studio.
Pam’s Pictorama Post: Drum roll please…because today we have our annual Christmas card reveal! Here at Deitch Studio we have been producing a holiday card for a few decades now. One day we’ll have to see who has old number one because, although I knew we kept some, I am not sure we can lay our hands on it. In the first year, and maybe the one that followed, we hand colored each one (differently) with colored pencil – but we had a smaller distribution back then.
A better look at this year’s card! Deitch Studio collection. Click on it to make it larger.
For those who are new to the card this year the general process is that, after discussing the general subject first, I do the initial drawing. Kim responds with his version and then we might negotiate this or that, back and forth until it is an amalgam of our styles. In general, if we appear on the card, the rule is you draw yourself. (A few card reveals from year’s past can be found here and here, but the archive is chock-a-block full of them!)
Kitty cooks in the kitchen! No, we don’t really let them cook. Deitch Studio Collection.
This year however, Kim has been admiring the view from our window and it permeated my thoughts when I sat down to draw the card and it fell together quickly.
For those who haven’t visited Deitch Studio for awhile, yes, the plants have indeed increased in number and lushness this year. A friend commented on that. For those who follow Pam’s Pictorama regularly you know that Blackie had a rough year and we almost lost him to a bad infection and subsequent diabetes. In fact we had a mini-emergency with him just this past week as his sugar dropped too low. Despite that he is looking like his old self, has gained his weight back and his coat is thick and shining as shown here.
An exuberant Blackie showing tummy and fang recently.
Cookie would have been just as glad (or so she says – frequently) if we hadn’t bothered bringing him home. They are sister and brother and fight as such – love to hate each other I say. It gives them something to do. Cookie is the talker in the family and at nine years old still chases her tail (daily) like a kitten; often in the bathtub. Go cat go! I say she has one cat joke and that is to hide behind the shower curtain in the bathroom so she can jump out, meowing, at an unsuspecting type coming in. I fall for it several times a week. She does a victory lap with her tail after.
Cookie, always a card, a Noir Alley kitty a few weeks ago.
The view out the window is obviously much simplified, although I like to think it somehow captures the overall sense and mood. Kim was very light in his touch this year and really let my original drawing shine through. The view is quite wonderful, but it is especially nice at night when it is a twinkling wonderland. When I can’t sleep, I come and sit down on the couch (usually with Cookie these days, who in turn requires ear scratching) and spend some time looking at it.
Our view – a dim rainbow in upper right corner.
One of the interesting aspects of the view is that in recent years it is also the northern end destination of my frequent runs. Now when I look out I know it differently and I know the trip under the bridge and up to 114th Street intimately firsthand. I have written more about running in New Jersey than here in the City, but it is in reality my more frequent, if somewhat more static route. (A New York running post can be found here – and one from New Jersey here.) The path along the river is soothing, if windy in winter and hot and sunny in summer, whereas the suburban New Jersey path is more varied perhaps and has surprises like visiting deer and suburban highlights.
The northern part of my Manhattan running route one morning recently.
When I purchased this apartment I had no idea how beautiful the view was as the windows were too dirty to see out. Now it is our escape, bringing the whole world into our single room and we wouldn’t trade it.
So as the holidays approach and 2022 comes to a close, Merry Christmas and the best of New Year’s to all from the four of us at Deitch Studio!
Pam's Pictorama 